Carved Read online

  Gigantor reaches out, and backhands the asshat. I hear his gun go off again as he flies through the air, hitting the wall near the window where he first fired at us. He hit the wall so hard, he leaves a butt-sized hole in the wall.

  My mind flashes to a time where I watched Jared take his 1st Degree Tae Kwon Do test. He was sparring three black belts; they all kicked him so hard, he left a hole in the wall exactly like the idiot just left. Now, I wonder, “Why do I seem to have lots of time available in my brain while life-and-death struggles are happening in front of me?”

  Gigantor is on him in a flash. After disarming him, the big guy has him cuffed faster than I can believe. I turn and ask John to look after Murphy. Damn it, I think the asshat might have grazed me! I don't have time to check it out right now. I've got to call for help.

  I reach for my mic, keying it, "Lima 26, officer needs assistance, 10-26 at my 20 in HR. We have a 10-33 emergency a 10-52 ambulance needed with a 10-78 officer down. I need a supervisor at my 10-20. Perpetrator is under control and cuffed."

  I get over to John, who is making sure Murphy is still breathing and applying a bandage to his head wound. Everything’s under control. I amble over and ask Gigantor if he’s okay.

  He studies me with the greenest eyes. I almost stumble. Smiling, he says, "Easy peasy!"

  "Easy frickin' peasy, huh?” I bust out laughing. “Thank you, I guess you might be…"Then, before I finish, I lean forward, my knees going weak.

  Mica, alias Gigantor, only has to hold his arms out, and I fall into them, passing out cold.

  Waking, I glance around to get my bearings. Great, just great—I’m in a hospital. It's bright in this room. The clock on the television screen tells me it’s afternoon. I feel like a car ran over me and came back for a second time, just to be sure. My mouth is dry. I try to lift my arm, but it’s velcroed to a plastic splint with an IV. “Well, I definitely missed all the action,” I tell myself out loud. I can't even guess what happened.

  Dana, my sweet brother, jumps out of a chair he’d evidently pulled up to my bed. He's definitely rumpled. Pretty sure he had been sleeping in said chair. "Way to go, Kendra. We leave you for just a few days and you go and get yourself all shot up."

  "What… happened?" I grate out of my sore throat, trying to rise.

  Dana proceeds to tell me yesterday during the ruckus in HR, the asshat with the gun shot me. Then, because I didn't take the time to notice and complain about my wound, I passed out from blood loss. Apparently, most of the blood was on my back as I had been shot through the meaty part of my waist just above my pelvis bone. The doctors were afraid it might have nicked a major artery. Dana said my Irish luck is holding up. Against my black uniform pants, the bleeding went unnoticed until I passed out in Gigantor’s arms.

  Arghhh, that’s embarrassing. I bet they love the guy for that though.

  Dana goes on to tell me how happy he is I have a partner, especially one who takes care of business. I knew it. I knew they would love him for saving me. He tells me Gigantor’s name is Mica. I knew that too. “Mica picked you up and took you straight to the EMT's. He ordered them to help you and leave the idiot who shot you for later. They airlifted you to the hospital, in the Ranger copter, where you had emergency surgery.

  "Jared was here, but left to get some dinner. He was here all night too. He's gonna be pissed he wasn't here when you woke up."

  "Can you text him, Dana?" I asked. "Pretty please, with sugar on top?"

  "Sure thing, Sissy, and I'm going to text Mica too. He gave me his number with an order to call him with any new information. I’d hate to get on his bad side. He's just too big an hombre to challenge. I thought me and Jare were extra-large. He makes us look all medium-sized and shit." Dana looks serious. His eyes, all big.

  I can't help it—I laugh at him. Then I grab my stomach. Oh, that kinda hurts!

  It’s maybe thirty minutes, tops before Jared walks into my hospital room, worry written all over his face. After seeing me, he relaxes a little and kisses me on the forehead. "Don't do that again, Sis. My heart can't take it. In fact, how about you get a safer job?"

  "Oh no, don't start that again. I like my job. I'm good at it. End of discussion, okay?"

  And here comes Mica to the rescue again. Taking up the whole doorway, he walks through. What’s up with the look on his face? You’d think we’d been partners for years, not hours. He looks over me and evaluates my well-being. Satisfied, he backs off a little. "Nice to meet you, Kendra. My name is Mica. We didn't get to talk any before you passed out in my arms."

  Wow! Just look at those arms. My partner is so built. I’ll have to work at it if I want to be able to work around him without staring.

  "What do you think? Will you have me for a partner?"

  He's asking? I’ll have to fight the others off. I think I may have to adopt my ‘don't-mess-with-my-shit’ face until they get over him.

  "Well, that depends," I start, smirking at their surprised faces. “It depends on whether you can handle having a shot-up, confined-to-bed pain in the ass, for yours."

  "You better believe it, Hollywood. Just get better—we can discuss more later.” He turns to leave. “I 'll be back tomorrow," he tells me. Turning back around, he adds, “Do you want a cheeseburger tomorrow for dinner?”

  “Are you kidding? I want one now. I guess I can wait, though. See you tomorrow, but be early, okay?”

  He smiles and waves at me as he leaves.

  Six

  Fight

  Spar

  So much is happening right now; I hardly get to see Mega at all. We’d talked, and yeah, I feel a son-to-dad type of love for him. This is something I’ve never had before. I think, this is all happening so fast. I just met him, but I feel like I’ve been part of the Ceorfan my entire life.

  It is kinda nice to have a real father. I laugh to myself. I already have no problem calling him Father. I pause, adding to my thoughts, but in the field I’ll be calling him Sir or Commander. I'm pretty sure that's what his team calls him. Maybe Mica can explain how I’ve become part of this large family so fast.

  I have a book I need to finish online. Mica assigned it to me. He’s my father’s second in command, I’m sure he knows what I need to help me understand this new way of life.

  One of the first things my father had given me was a tablet. He set up a sort of email for me on something called the B-board. He said it’s shortened from bulletin board. He told me to check my notices often. Checking right now, while I'm at it, and yep, nothing. I set my alerts to vibrate, and chime with a one-minute time gap between the two, just to be sure.

  Maybe, just maybe, I can read my book without letting my thoughts waft my consciousness into an endless dream about Kendra. That’s a problem for later. For now, I’m walking around exploring my new home. I need to be able to find my way. I’d love to be able to show Kendra around. I slowly drift. We could hold hands as we walked like we used to do. I can imagine the way her skin feels next to mine, so warm. Her hot breath on me everywhere. My arms long to pull her body against mine again, to feel her heat, her passion. I’m completely lost in my thoughts of her as I walk.

  “Spar, concentrate,” I say out loud. I shake my head, hoping to fling the thoughts away. I don't want to run into anyone while I'm lost in a daydream. I'm just feet from the lunchroom. Hmmm, and I’m hungry, starving in fact. I turn toward the eating area, wondering why they call it that. I’m going to eat before I go to our room, there isn’t even a snack in there. Stopping short before I run right smack into another gargoyle, I mumble, “I guess I didn't focus fast enough.”

  The new gargoyle looks like the Sphinx. He’s bent over another, much smaller gargoyle. He raises his clenched fist to punch the other gargoyle. The smaller gargoyle is already bloody. Great wounds made by claws cover the bloody one's side and shoulders. He’s about half the size of the Sphinxter-goyle assaulting him.

  Sphinxter-goyle yells at me when he sees me staring. "On your way, fucker. This
is my prey!"

  "Wait a minute here, buster. You need to back off!" I ask the bloody gargoyle, "Are you okay?"

  "None of your business, unless you want a turn." Sphinxter-goyle smirks.

  His victim slumps over and begs me, "Help, please."

  I’m on this, I think.

  I launch myself at the bully without giving him a second to react. He drops his ‘prey,’ who slides down the wall. I’m breathing heavy, infusing my body with O2. It’s a trick I learned as a kid—okay, yeah, I fought a lot. My heart rate speeds up, sending the extra-oxygenated blood and adrenaline to my muscles. "Pick on someone your own size, Sphinxter-boy." My fist connects with his face!

  Uh oh, it doesn't even faze him. His reaction is lightning fast. He throws a straight punch. I’m not nearly quick enough to dodge. I hit the wall, then the floor, hard. I get back up. Fuck, this isn't going to be easy.

  In less than three seconds, I’ve learned Sphinxter-goyle is much stronger, faster, and certainly more skilled in combat than I am. Going over my options, I determine I must use my last-ditch, surefire, gets 'em every time, kick 'em in the balls move. Spinning backwards faster than I’ve ever moved, I land a back-kick to Sphinxter’s groin. It lands hard. Victory is within my reach. Completing the 360-degree spin, I’m now face to face with Sphinxter-goyle. He’s just standing there looking at me like I called his grandma a whore. Bloody hell, I foozled that surefire attack. My reward for failure is going to be very unpleasant, I think to myself.

  Preparing for the beat-down of my short gargoyle life, an odd thought goes through my head, considering the circumstances. Damn it all! I didn’t even get lunch first!

  The lights brighten. I didn’t even notice they were low. Mica's voice booms around the area, "That's enough Apex. Thank you for your participation on such short notice."

  I tell the room, "What in the fucking-firetruck is going on here?"

  Bloody gets up and hits Sphinxter-goyle in the arm. "Good job." Both are smiling.

  I’m seriously confused. Good thing Mica lumbers over to me with both gargoyles. He reaches to help me up. I brush off his help and get up by myself. Now I'm pissed.

  "Spar, meet Apex," he motions to Sphinxter. "This is Dolo," as he motions toward the bloody gargoyle. "Dolo is just fine, and you have just passed your first test. It was designed to test your base reaction to defending others in the guild. Your actions have proved you will.” Continuing his description of the test, he says, "Most gargoyles are tested to see if they’ll defend humans. You can understand why that would be different for you." He smiles. "Your dad is going to be so proud of you.

  "I hate to tell you, though, that fight is going to make the best story. I can hardly wait to tell how you kicked Apex in the balls. I can still see the, 'Oh shit!' look on your face. Come on, let's go eat." Mica lets out a hearty laugh. I join him.

  "I’m so glad one test is over, but if they all go this way I’m going to be in sad shape by the end," I tell them as we walk.

  "Not all of the tests are physical, Spar. I can't tell you everything, but this one’s free," Mica tells me with a shrug. "Let's get some food and talk in the lunch room. On the good side, I can tell you that while you sleep, you’ll heal up and not even feel sore when you wake. We sit swapping stories and finishing our meal, then Mica says, “I have a mission in a little while—I have go get ready. I'll see you in training tonight, Spar." He pats me on the shoulder as he leaves.

  Tonight? Oh, that’s right. It’s after midnight and I’ll be asleep all day.

  When I get to my room I’m tired and sore, and ready to sleep so I can heal. Dad’s in our room, getting ready to sleep too. Meaning he’s cleaning and putting up as much as he can before he sleeps. He glimpses me as I enter the living area. "Mica already told me telepathically that you have passed your first test, son. I am proud of you. Normally, gargoyles would have this test with humans to prove their willingness to save humans. In your previous life, you have already proved you will sacrifice to help humans. A human test was not necessary. You will have other tests, five in all. Protecting is what we do as gargoyles. We protect others, even humans. Our whole lives are built on this premise. We must protect each other because of the dangers we face. There are those who think we are nothing but chattel to be owned, used, or thrown away like trash."

  My shoulders raise, and I puff my chest a little. This man makes me happy with myself. I want to make him proud. I know I'm a large gargoyle inside and out, but I feel even bigger from his praise. Kendra’s the only one in a long time who built me up the way he is doing now. I smile at him. "Pretty much what Mica told me. Is there any way I can practice for each test Father?"

  "Mica oversees preparing you. Listen to him, son. Disregard nothing he says." His posture changes. He asks, "Can you feel the change about to come upon you? The sun is starting to rise."

  I take a second to evaluate. “Yeah, I can feel a tingle all over my skin.”

  "Wings up, son. It is a good thing to pose until it becomes automatic. If you are in the human world when the sun rises they will come closer to believing you are a statue or art if you pose. It might keep you safe. See you tonight."

  I raise my wings, "Goodnight. When am I going to get used to this? I mean, see you tonight, Father." The pain is fast, but blinding. We harden to stone instantly with a quiet crackling.

  I sleep.

  I wake, but I’m still in my hardened state. I’m rested! Even now, I’m more relaxed than I can remember being. Waking while I’m still solid stone, I listen to the sounds of bats in the cave, of water dripping, and even the sounds from outside the cave, which echo within our community.

  The change is coming soon. My body feels energized and awake. A tinkling, crackling, like glass breaking, and my stone body changes to flesh. I stretch and breathe deeply. I’m healed now; not even a scratch remains. This sleep has its advantages.

  I dreamed of Kendra! I want to see her, let her know I love her. I want to know if she can possibly still love me now that I’m a gargoyle. The sooner the better.

  I see my Dad moving around getting himself ready for his job this evening. He says, "Keep yourself safe, son. Listen to Mica—he will help you. I have meetings most of the night. The High Guild still hasn't come up with a plan to implement, and we will have to work until we do. Spar, tonight I need to talk to you about your beloved Kendra. There are some things you need to know. She is safe. So do not worry! See you soon, son. I must leave now."

  Seven

  Pistols

  Spar

  Mica moves like he’s as refreshed as I am. That’s a plus in the gargoyle column. He starts the training by motioning me to come over to him. When I get to where Mica directed me, my mouth drops open. Row upon row of weapons line the wall and tables. Wow!

  I feel like a kid in a candy store. Everything I ever wanted to try or use is here—some of the oldest weapons and the newest. There is even a mini rail-gun. That reminds me: my favorite handgun is something I should probably get from the apartment. It’s a sweet Smith & Wesson 1911 Spartan with an oil-rubbed bronze finish. Right where I left it, I'll bet—right where Kendra and I had made our lives together. Okay, I go from thinking about guns to Kendra. Yeah, that fits; she's a pistol, all right! I want all my pistols back!

  Mica must see the look of want and lust on my face. "I drool over them too, but we’re doing hand-to-hand today, Spar. I just want you to see that we do have and use weapons. However, we choose to use stealth and our hands as our first choice. If you are in a position where you need this type of backup, one of our guild will be there to support and defend you.”

  He’s in full training mode now. I listen, intent on every word.

  He continues, “You’re stronger than any human you’ll ever encounter. The Ceorfan have the best soldiers on the planet by a 100-to-1 margin. With that in mind, generally you’ll restrain, not kill, humans. But,” He emphasizes the word and exaggerates the pause after the but to drive it home. “…If we’re fighting
for the safety of the Ceorfan, our freedom, or our people or the people of the earth—things along those lines—we fight to win. You will use EV-ER-Y,” again exaggerating the word to give it more meaning, “…resource to win. Win. Do you understand me?”

  He’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him. His expression is one of manic intensity. But, observing him closely, I see an almost hidden pain. “Yes Mica, I do understand.”

  “Spar, you know life is rarely black and white. I can’t lay out every situation where lethal force is required. You must use your judgment. You already know this, but there’re consequences to your decision. Gargoyles have always been protectors. That’s what we should be fighting for. Let the humans decide life and death for their own people.

  “If you’re fighting gargoyles, it’s different. I wish I could tell you there aren't any gargoyle enemies. Here in Navan, you’re safe. Outside this group, you might have to fight enemy gargoyles. Use every weapon you have to destroy them. They’re evil, twisted beings who live only to destroy. Long ago, they were crafted for that very reason."

  I follow as Mica moves to the center of the big room. The floor is sandy. I haven't fought on sand like this in a long time. About a year ago, while training on a floor like this, we were practicing throws and slap-out landings. I fell wrong and broke a rib. I hope I don’t have that kind of luck here. Wait …ha! Who cares, I won't feel a thing tomorrow. I’ll intensify my practice.